The Road Not Taken
by Sir Perfluous
Summary: Sometimes the truth really is a matter of circumstance and the truth was they needed each other right now... maybe in more ways than one. Steve had been honest with Natasha during their car ride to New Jersey but had he been completely honest with himself?


**Note: I don't own Captain America or any other Avengers related intellectual property.**

* * *

The glare of the late afternoon sun reflected off the large road sign welcoming drivers into the state of New Jersey as a blue Chevy pickup truck cruised past it. Aside from a few other cars that had passed by headed in the opposite direction, there didn't seem to be any other drivers on that sleepy country road. As far as Steve Rogers was concerned, that suited him just fine.

His hand still gripped the steering wheel tightly before he took a moment to relax and feel a momentary wave of relief wash over him. He had been driving for a couple hours now and every time a car passed by, he couldn't help but worry that some SHIELD agent would be trying to run him off the road now.

Admittedly, it was an unusual feeling for him, for the great Captain America to feel the grip of fear and uncertainty within him... not the same fear he felt during the war, but a new kind... the fear of being hunted by people who were supposed to be on his side. He was now a man on the run and he didn't like the feeling one bit.

As Steve continued to drive down the quiet farm road, he noticed the colors of the tree lined path had begun to change slightly. Early autumn had set in and the edges of the leaves had turned a slight shade of yellow gold. Glancing over toward the passenger seat of the truck, he caught Natasha studying him, a strange mix of amusement and curiosity on her face.

"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?"

She must have been pondering the question to herself while they rode in silence earlier.

"Nazi Germany," Steve replied coolly while trying to reassert some control, "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."

Natasha stared at him for a moment, the same amused smile still curling on the edge of her lips as she put her feet back down.

No sooner had Steve turned his attention back to the road, Natasha spoke again, "All right, I have a question for you, which you do not have to answer. I feel like, if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"

"What?" Steve sighed in mild annoyance.

"Was that your first kiss since 1945?" she asked while turning toward him. Her eyes had lit up and she wore a an impish smile, no doubt to tease him about earlier.

"That bad, huh?" Steve groaned as he kept his eyes forward in hopes of avoiding hers.

"I didn't say that," Natasha answered cajolingly but Steve kept his features taut, hoping that if he sounded annoyed and defensive enough, she would just drop it. He had felt a little self conscious about that whole kiss in the mall, and part of him had hoped it wouldn't come back up during their car ride. Wishful thinking.

"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying."

"No, I didn't," Natasha frowned, "I just wondered how much practice you've had."

Steve glanced back to her quickly trying to nip the conversation in the bud before she could notice the blood rushing to his cheeks, "You don't need practice."

"Everybody needs practice," she insisted, breaking back into her teasing smile.

"It was not my first kiss since 1945," Steve declared firmly as he desperately tried to take control of the conversation again, "I'm 95, I'm not dead."

Even if she had been just teasing, Steve had begun to feel a twinge of fear and uncertainty all over again. This time it wasn't about the war, or even being a fugitive. This time, it was about his own personal space, having someone prodding him and trying to probe deeper into his own heart with such an odd line of questioning.

Then again, should he really be feeling so defensive? She had brought up the kiss and in his opinion, it wasn't a bad kiss either. Natasha was an ally, albeit a dangerous one. She was a woman who made him feel many things: fear, affection, attraction, maybe all the above. But in some sense, she was also a friend that he was beginning to trust too. While he'd never openly admit it to her, that brief moment of contact and trust had felt... nice.

"Nobody special, though?" Natasha asked with a grin. She wanted to get a rise out of him and she just wasn't quitting. It was in a moment like that, Steve almost had to wonder why she kept hassling him about his own personal love life. Honestly, why was she so interested? Why did she care so much when he didn't seem to?

Steve simply gave a dismissive snort as another car passed by on the road, "Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience."

"Well, that's all right," Natasha replied coolly, "You just make something up."

"What, like you?" Steve asked curiously before turning to glance at her.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "The truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time... neither am I."

It was an interesting position. Natasha had been a dangerous assassin and spy who had to wear many faces and pretend to be many things. No doubt after a while, it could become difficult remembering who and what you really are. In that very moment, even a superhero like Captain America had to stop and ask himself the same question... who he was and what he was doing with the Black Widow on the run from their own government.

As Natasha spoke, Steve caught the subtle yet fleeting inflection in the tone of her voice. A hint of resignation? Melancholy perhaps? For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder if Natasha felt as lonely as he did sometimes.

"That's a tough way to live," he admitted gently while giving her a sympathetic look.

She turned away for a moment with a thoughtful, almost wistful smile, "It's a good way not to die, though."

After a brief pause, Steve glanced back to Natasha, "You know, it's kind of hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is."

"Yeah..." she answered looking into his eyes thoughtfully. After another pause, she asked, "Who do you want me to be?"

What an odd question. It caught Steve off guard for a second and he had to think quickly. As he fished for an answer, he couldn't help but wonder what Natasha meant, or what she might have possibly been suggesting. Ally? Companion? Confidant? Lover? The possibilities of each were intriguing. Whatever it meant, the truth of the matter was that they needed each other to survive right now. They were both fugitives and likely neither of them wanted to be alone either.

 _Who do you want me to be?_

"How about a friend?" Steve answered quickly. He had meant that genuinely. Any strong relationship that was based on trust had to have a firm foundation of friendship first, right? But in that same moment, Steve inwardly kicked himself for possibly having answered too fast.

Is that what he wanted? Just another friend? Would that truly be able to help him deal with the crushing loneliness and frustration of the modern world that still continued to plague him at times? Maybe Natasha was right to encourage him to pursue relationships. What good was being a hero and a champion of the people without being able to have intimacy or a deeper connection with others? What if he decided that he wanted to explore that avenue together, with her?

As much as he wanted to think otherwise, Steve Rogers had to focus right now. He was Captain America and he had to put the mission first. He still meant what he said on one level about wanting Natasha to be his friend, so for now, he would just have to stand by his words.

Natasha studied him for a moment longer with the ghost of her curious but amused smile, returning to her lips, "Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."

Steve smiled slightly and turned back to the road as a companionable silence settled again inside the car. He couldn't deny the seeming truth in that statement, but coming from Natasha, he appreciated it. As they continued to drive down the road of the yellow autumn woods, Steve looked ahead and saw the path branch in two.

He knew that both would eventually lead to the same destination, but for now he had a choice to make, in more ways than one. What either of those paths meant for himself and the woman sitting next to him, he couldn't be quite sure. So he made his choice and angled true right, his hope that whatever the future held, that it would ultimately make all the difference.

* * *

 **A/N:**  
 **So I'm a big Captain America fan and Winter Soldier is probably my favorite movie among the Marvel Avengers films. I always thought the chemistry between Cap and Widow was amazing and I couldn't for the life of me understand why they didn't go with that pairing. Extra tip of the cap also goes to the famous poem by Robert Frost for which the fic was framed within. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my little foray here and thanks for reading everyone.**


End file.
